Write It Out!

How writing can help you work through your stress, grief, or trauma.

This article is shared and reprinted here by permission from the National Association of Adoptees and Parents. It was originally printed in its 3rd Quarter 2021 Newsletter.

It was difficult for me to write certain parts of my memoir. As with many adoptees, my story dealt with a difficult childhood, the trauma of abandonment, the severing of my identity, secondary rejection, and generally navigating a life put together by others with purposeful deceit. I was expected to live a certain life, love certain people as “family,” and be accepting of and comfortable with it all.  

So why write about it? Why relive the pain and trauma? 

Well, ignoring it wasn’t working. For years after my birth mother cruelly rejected me in 1987, the trauma of that secondary rejection manifested itself in many ways. Seemingly innocuous incidents would trigger my trauma and I would find myself reliving my past anxieties and stresses, and sometimes taking it out on other people. Relationships were difficult. My trauma led to anxiety, anger, and withdrawal. And exhaustion.  

I let those anxieties and stresses cause chaos and uncertainty in my life for too long. 

Some thirty years later I started blogging about my adoption journey. I finally took control of my story. Why did it take so long? 

I’ve always enjoyed writing. I’ve done legal writing in my career as a paralegal for years. I also had a food blog for a few years. Sharing my love for cooking, along with my adventures in the competitive cooking world was fun, but it wasn’t easing any pain. What I did realize through this type of writing was that expressive and creative writing was beneficial for me. Creativity (through the cooking and the writing) helped to relieved stress related to my work. 

I still had anxiety and issues related to my adoption, however. I just wasn’t dealing with them. Then, one day, I stumbled on another adoptee’s blog. She told the story of her search and the complicated reunion with her birth mother and the maternal side of her biological family. As I read, I reflected on my own story. Her story forced me to think critically through my own emotions and experiences. Reflecting on another person’s similar story gave me the ability to understand and make sense of my own life experience. I had a sudden urge to write my story. 

And so I began. 

The health benefits of writing about trauma are well-documented. For me, blogging helped me reflect on my situation, accept it, reach out to people through it, and finally, heal. By reaching out through blogging, I was able to connect with others with similar situations. I found other adoptees and those with unique family situations dealing with their own trauma and difficult emotions. By giving a voice to my pain and emptiness, I was learning to accept them as a part of me. In accepting, I was healing. By sharing my story, I was emerging from my isolation.  

Soon after I started blogging, I started reading adoptee memoirs and other adoption-centric books. This brought me more validation and strength. I used the strength to write my memoir.  

Before you emerge strong, you’ll inevitably feel the pain again. I did. Don’t let it stop you. Through the writing process, whether you are simply journaling, blogging, writing personal essay, or writing your memoir, you will learn acceptance. You will learn to accept your emotional scars and learn not to be afraid to share your vulnerabilities. Writing will help you discover what makes you part of a larger universe. What makes you vulnerable may be a direct result of personal trauma, but that trauma and the emotional turmoil caused by it are informed by systems, processes or problems in society on a much larger scale. Maybe sharing your experience will help others. By writing your story, you can take ownership of your life and shape it the way you want.  

Adoptee voices matter. If you have a story you’d like to tell, or if you’d like to start journaling with more meaning, or if you are currently blogging or want to start a blog, join me, Lynn Grubb, Marcie Keithley, and Paige Strickland at the NAAP Conference in September for our panel discussion, Adoptee Voices Matter—Options for Writing Your Truth. Panel presenters will answer your questions and share their thoughts on writing memoir, personal essay (non-fiction), writing about grief and trauma, and how to keep organized and focused when writing about such an emotional topic. Hope to see you there. 

Available at Amazon

COVID Craziness

This article is shared and reprinted here by permission from the Indiana Adoptee Network. It was originally printed in its 2020 Holiday Newsletter.

I wanted to post it here to reach as many people as possible, because we’re all still dealing with the unfortunate effects of COVID in some way (some are having a more difficult time than others) and it’s comforting to know that you’re not alone.

Case in point: early last week, my husband tested positive for COVID. Luckily, he was already doing some work at our condo in another city when he found out–so we decided he should stay there, alone, until this passes. His sister, who lives nearby the condo, was gracious enough to deliver some groceries so he wouldn’t need anything during his quarantine. This meant that he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. It also meant that Garrett and I may have been exposed. We scrambled trying to arrange for testing before Christmas. Garrett got tested on Christmas Eve and I got tested on the 26th. Luckily, we both tested negative. According to protocol, we stayed isolated here at home and had a quiet Christmas–just the two of us, while Guy ate a quesadilla and instant ramen for Christmas dinner (his cooking skills are limited). We had been looking forward to my older son and his fiancee joining all three of us on Christmas Eve for dinner and spending the night for Christmas morning and gifts and good cheer, but it was not in the cards for us. Damn COVID.

Fortunately, my husband had very mild symptoms and felt fine most of the time during his quarantine. He’ll be coming home on Thursday (New Year’s Eve) and we’ll all be getting together on New Year’s Day to have our Christmas celebration.

So, hang in there. I’m thankful we didn’t get hit hard by COVID. Some of you may have already, or may in the future. I hope not. Please, stay safe, healthy, and sane!


COVID-19, Coronavirus, the “Plague.” Whatever you want to call it, we’re all still dealing with it. STILL!

Back in March, Lynn Grubb (No Apologies for Being Me) and I did a lighthearted Indiana Adoptee Network Happy Hour Zoom “meeting” (IAN’s first one) about the subject and how it might affect adoptees and those in the community in ways different from the average “Joe.” We talked about silly things, too, like substitutes for toilet paper (the shortage was real!), and Zoom mishaps in this new age of video conferencing (like forgetting to turn off video when you step into the bathroom—oops!)

But the real issue was, and still is, how to deal with this new stressor (COVID), when many of us in the adoption community are already dealing with trauma, anxiety, and isolation? How is dealing with COVID different for adoptees and others in the adoption community?

It’s a fact that adoptees are a vulnerable population.

  • Adoptees may have felt like outsiders their entire lives—different in some way. We grew up separated from our biological families. Society as a whole does not truly understand how isolating that can be—not knowing who they are, or knowing who they are, but not having contact with them for some reason or another. These feelings are normal for an adoptee, but add social distancing, stay-at-home orders, and even quarantining to the mix and our sense of being alone in the world is heightened.

Adoptive Parents need to be aware of the anxieties and feelings adopted children may have.

  • Adopted children may need more frequent reassurance from adults during these uncertain times. Some children may be thinking about how COVID-19 is impacting their birth family. Adoptive parents should not shy away from bringing up these concerns or fears, if the child is old enough to understand the situation.

For both adoptees and adoptive parents, anxieties can merge.

  • Disruptions in family life due to the pandemic, such as economic hardships, transition to online learning, and cancellations of social and recreational activities can bring up feelings of confusion in adopted children, and helplessness in adoptive parents. The journey to forming a positive identity as an adopted person may be impeded by these events, which further disrupt continuity. Again, depending on the age and developmental level of the adopted child, parents can, and should, initiate conversations with their child about these issues.

There are so many complexities and nuances. How it affects each of us is going to be different. How do we cope? Lynn and I had some suggestions for that, too.

First, understand that anxiety is completely normal in this situation. Accept what is happening and make space for it, even if you don’t like it.

CONNECT! We think this is the most important thing of all. IAN created a platform for us to get together and share our experiences, including our struggles and our successes. IAN Happy Hour is bringing the adoption community together every Friday (and sometimes on Mondays) with helpful topics and discussions as a healthy way to engage with others in the adoption community. We are fortunate to be living in a time of technology which has given us the ability to connect from our homes. In addition to IAN  Happy Hour, there are Facebook Groups, and other organizations across the country that offer support and engagement for those in the adoption community.

You may find strength and comfort in other communities, too, like your faith-based community. Find ways to continue to rely on what makes you feel safe and happy. Many churches are putting their services online. There is also a myriad of podcasts that provide reinforcement and encouragement, whether you are looking for connection through your religious affiliation or through other genres of spirituality.

Another way to cope–stick to your routines. Or, if your routine is too much with the added stress, relax your routine. Self-care, whatever that looks like to you, remains important. For some it’s meditating, for others it can be as simple as taking a bath or a walk.

Some other things to keep you busy on a positive level:

  • Make time for hobbies! If you don’t have one, get one! Get creative with crafting, cooking, collecting . . . appreciate once again your the small pleasures you derive from your creativity.
  • Connect with people by talking on the phone, Facetime, Skype, or Zoom. In addition to video live-chat apps like Snapchat and Whatsapp, which I can guarantee that your teens have on their phones, there are some others that seem to be drawing the “more mature” crowd, like Marco Polo. The average age for users of Marco Polo is adults, ages 25 to 54, who simply want to stay in touch on a more personal level than just texts, but who maybe don’t have time to live chat on demand. Try it!
  • Read an adoption memoir (and write a review).
  • Write that adoption memoir you’ve been thinking about. Or, just do some journaling. Journaling can improve your mood by helping you prioritize problems, fears, and concerns. It can also help to reset that positive self-talk you need to hear!
  • Spend time with your pet! It’s proven that interacting with a friendly pet can help reduce blood pressure and improve overall health by causing our brains to release endorphins that produce a calming effect. This can help alleviate pain, reduce stress, and improve your overall psychological state.
  • Listen to some music. Music therapy always lifts the mood (make a playlist of quarantine theme songs!).
  • Research and plan your next vacation for when travel restrictions are lifted. It may seem like we’ll be in this lockdown status forever, but I promise we won’t!

While staying connected is important, there is nothing wrong with a little introspection, as well. Take some quiet time to assess where you are in your life. Contemplate if you’re content with who you are and what you’re doing. Be honest with yourself. There is no benefit to pretending that everything is okay if it isn’t. Adoptees are good at adapting, but move past your comfort zone and really look at your situation. If you are not happy with your professional and personal life, now might be a good time to start developing a plan or a strategy to achieve your goals. Ask for help or get a mentor. Some of us will be building a new future out of necessity after this is all over. Plan accordingly.

Unfortunately, there is going to be suffering. The goal is coping. And most importantly, STAY HEALTHY! Together we’ll get to the other side of this!

Find Your Tribe

During this crazy Covid-time, it helps to connect with family, friends, and others who share a common bond. For me, it’s helpful at times to connect with other adoptees. This article is shared and reprinted here by permission from the Indiana Adoptee Network. It was originally printed in its 2020 Holiday Newsletter.

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter,and those who matter don’t mind.” –Bernard M. Baruch

It took me a long time to find my voice. I mean, my real voice. The real me. I’m not even sure I know who I am fully at this point in my life.  I’m fifty-seven years old.

I grew up adopted, raised in a middle-class, normal(ish) family. I went to college and had a career in the legal field, where I worked as a paralegal for over twenty-five years. I’ve been married, divorced, and married again. I have two grown boys. I even wrote and published a book—a memoir—about my adoption experience, my search for my identity, and my journey to find biological family.

I’m still insecure. I have anxiety. But I know I need to move forward every day. But how?

I took a big leap in 2019 after I published my memoir. It was a big leap for me, anyway. I wanted to share my story with adoptees and others connected to the adoption community. I searched online for groups or sub-communities near me here in Southern California where I could share and talk about adoption. There really wasn’t much locally. I toyed with the idea of starting a social group with a few adoptee friends of mine. But I wanted more—I really wanted to connect. I wanted to learn about the experiences of others and how other adult adoptees were faring in this crazy world. I eventually landed on the Indiana Adoptee Network website. As it turned out, at the time I found IAN, they were getting ready for their March conference. The website was all a-buzz about it. How fortuitous for me.

But wait . . . Indiana? Was it for me? Was I really going to travel over two thousand miles to hang out with total strangers? The workshops looked interesting, and there were going to be other adoptees, but would they welcome me—an outsider from California—into the fold?

At the same time I was considering attending the conference Indiana, my anxiety was hitting me hard. I had just birthed my book and my crazy adoptee story was out there for the world to see (and judge). Who did I think I was writing this memoir about my small experience? Who is really going to care? What if they don’t like me?

I waited until the last minute to register and book my flight and hotel. But I did it—I was all in. And I’m glad I did. What a revelation! Let me tell you, it is really something to be in a room full of other people who just get it. Everyone was friendly and helpful and caring. There was no shortage of sharing and learning. There was yoga, meditation, comedy, and a movie. There was even an art display put together by a super-talented adoptee-artist. That might sound a little strange to non-adoptees—how is “adoptee-ism” a genre? Or a subject? But, believe me, it IS! There is a connection . . . a common thread. Really, more like a common direction, or lifeline. I made new friends and met so many smart and vibrant people that are truly committed to the support and encouragement of adoptees and others dedicated to adoption issues from all angles. My tribe.

2020 is a disappointment, for sure, with the unavoidable cancelation of the fourth annual live conference. I was really looking forward to seeing everyone again, meeting new people, and getting my dose of adoptee harmony. But not to worry, IAN is dedicated to continuing its work to uplift and support those in the adoption community. I hope you are all joining in on the Adoption Happy Hour. It’s such a great way to stay connected until we can meet again.

Randall – A Study in Coming Out of the Fog

It’s no secret that I am a super-fan of the NBC television show, This Is Us. It sucked me in starting in Season One, with the complex family story, which included threads about everything from drug and alcohol abuse, weight shaming, obesity, fierce sibling rivalry, adoption, and so much more. The masterful storytelling kept me coming back with all the surprises, clever and well-placed flashbacks, and shocking plot-twisting endings to almost all of the episodes. What’s not to love! The characters are so real . . . so honest . . . so flawed.

The Season Five premiere earlier this week confirmed that the show wasn’t going to shy away from the reality of current times. In the first few minutes of the show, the challenges of the coronavirus were incorporated seamlessly, with Beth’s revelation that “Tom Hanks has it,” and Kevin and Madison’s pregnancy reveal to Kate and Toby at a safe distance. The current Black Lives Matter movement also played into the storyline, especially for Randall’s immediate family. The scene where Randall, Beth and the girls were watching the news about the death of George Floyd was especially heart wrenching. Randall insists he’s not having a breakdown. He’s just “really, really sad.”

Some viewers didn’t like the inclusion of COVID and the racial tension in the storyline, saying that they watch television to escape reality. That doesn’t work for me. I generally don’t enjoy watching or reading something that is obviously not rooted in reality. This is why I’m not a fan of books, movies, or television shows with the genre or theme of science fiction, fantasy or superhero fiction. To each his own.

Let’s get back to Randall. Most adult adoptees in real life know about The Fog. For those not familiar, for adoptees, the phrase “coming out of the fog” refers to adoptees coming to terms with feelings–often supressed emotions–and realizations about adoption and their adoption experience. It is an awareness that evolves, or comes on slowly, that the reality of the adoption experience may not fit the mold society or adoptive families have constructed for adoptees. You are immersed in The Fog if you are an adoptee who believes that relinquishment and adoption are completely positive events and have no effect on your life or your emotions at all. Adoptees living in The Fog are mostly grateful and may believe that they were “saved” by their adoptive parents from a sad life of being an orphan, or being raised in poverty, or worse. These ideas are often instilled in the adoptee by his or her adoptive parents. Adoptees are often told they were “chosen” and are “special.” Adoptive parents may mean well by telling these stories, but for an adoptee, the reality will hit at some point.

The reality is: biology does matter. Being separated from your mother at birth or even later causes trauma. This trauma can affect the development of a child on many levels, including physiologically, socially, and emotionally. Identity confusion is common for adoptees. As the realization of this trauma comes to light for an adoptee and evolves, the feelings and emotions start to flow: rejection, grief, confusion, mourning, denial, anger, bargaining, and, hopefully, acceptance. This is coming out of The Fog.

Truly, what I’m writing here is such a simplified version of what adoptees may go through when coming out of The Fog. Libraries are full of research articles by experts and books written on the subject. It’s a real thing. And I believe that Randall is just starting to come out of The Fog.

Randall has been under an enormous amount of stress since the beginning of Season One. He’s a people-pleaser. He’s an over-acheiver. He didn’t think that his stress had anything to do with his adoption, but it obviously did. During the first season, he searched for and found his biological father! We all grew to love William during their ‘reunion,’ but there is no denying that this event confused Randall, and challenged much of what he believed about himself. Also revealed to viewers were the secrets that his adoptive mom, Rebecca, had kept from him. The secrets, on top of all of the other stress, force Randall to face his demons. He goes to counseling.

I actually wrote a post after Randall lost it last season (remember when he chased down the purse snatcher and beat the crap out of him?). I think this was the start of Randall coming out of The Fog.

Now he’s facing the racial issues of the current social climate as a black man who had been raised in a white family. His identity is being challenged even further by his emotion and the reactions and feelings of those closest to him. He realizes that they (Kate and Kevin) are not able to fully understand what he is going through. Again, all of this is pushing him out of The Fog even more.

I’m looking forward to seeing how Randall’s story evolves. There must be an adoptee or two on the writing staff or consulting with the writers because, in my opinion, they seem to get the adoption storyline right every time. And it’s only going to get more interesting now that we know (SPOILER ALERT) that Randall’s birth mother didn’t die after she gave birth.

Interested in another adoptee story? My book is on sale at Amazon!

I Have a Dream . . . of Anxiety

It’s pretty common. Our anxieties can haunt us in our dreams, and make themselves known to us in strange ways.

There are two recurring themes in my dreams. One that I had quite often when I was younger was about being in the water. Mind you, in real life, I’m a very good swimmer–I was even on the swim team in high school–so I know the underlying fear or anxiety that goes along with this particular dream can’t have anything to do with the actual water or swimming. So what does it mean? The water dreams I had always took a weird turn. I’d be swimming in a pool or in the ocean and I’d realize I’m very far from the surface and I need to get air soon. I panic. But then, I realize . . . or remember . . . that I can actually breathe under water. Like a fish. Nothing to panic about! Whew! And then I invoke my aquatic super-power and start breathing. And I’m fine.

I’ve also had a different version of this dream where I am falling from a great height and in the midst of the fall and my panic, I remember that I can fly. So I do, and I’m fine. I’ll just fly around above the trees, trying not to be seen, and wondering if I’m the only one that has this awesome superpower. I consider these flying dreams to be in the same family or theme as the breathing under water dreams. I call them my Superpower Dreams.

I’ve never figured out what these Superpower Dreams mean, or what the anxiety (or the superpower) may represent in real life. Oddly enough, I don’t have the Superpower dreams that often anymore, so whatever the stressor was, perhaps it has resolved itself. Or maybe I’ve lost my superpowers.

The other recurring dream theme I’ve had over the years (and still continue to have) revolves around being lost. It’s always a scary kind of lost, with an accompanying desperation to escape from something or to find a place or people or an important thing (like my missing purse or passport). Sometimes I’m in a foreign country, or a strange city, or traveling on a train that is going the wrong way but I can’t get off. And almost always, my purse, phone, or something else of great importance has been stolen or is missing. And I am always unable to remember the phone number or address of a person to contact for help. Or I get somewhere where they are supposed to be and they are not there.

Last night I had one of those dreams. I was lost. I was in a foreign country and couldn’t speak the language. I had lost my purse. I remembered that I had left it on a train or a tram or something, but I was wandering the streets trying to find my way back to this tram–that probably was already gone with my purse. I also knew I had luggage somewhere; back in the hotel, maybe? But I had no idea where the hotel was, because I had been wandering around aimlessly looking for the damn tram. I was surrounded by people speaking in a foreign language . . . large buildings . . . . it was getting dark. I was completely disoriented. And alone.

I woke up from this dream in a total panic. It’s been twelve hours now since this dream and I still feel the prickle of anxiety when I think about it.

Whenever I have one of my Lost Dreams, as I call them, I’ll lie in bed and wait for the anxiety to wane. Then, I’ll inevitably assess my real-time emotional landscape. What is going on in my life that is causing me distress? Usually, nothing of the magnitude of the dreamscape’s anxiety, but the feeling must come from somewhere.

So I did a little research. Maybe if I figure this out the nightmares will stop.

Cathleen O’Connor, Ph.D., author of “The Everything Law of Attraction Dream Dictionary,” says that dreams about being lost or searching for something that is lost “usually denote anxiety.” Well, duh. “They evoke feelings of confusion and frustration, or even a sense of feeling you don’t fit in,” says O’Connor. “Usually, the meaning has to do with a current situation in your life where you are anxious that you will not find your way.”

Well, that’s disturbing, considering that I’ve had these Lost Dreams for most of my adult life. I’m 56 years old. You’d think I would have found my way by now.

After a lot of soul searching, I’ve decided to face my Lost Dreams head on. If I call them out, maybe they’ll stop. That means I have to nail them down. I’ve given them a name, but I also need to give them a meaning so I can work through the details and the triggers. That’s the goal, anyway.

Of course, dream interpretation is subjective. That’s okay. They’re my dreams. My anxiety. So here’s my own amateur analysis: I suspect that the Lost Dreams are speaking to me on a subconscious level about my adoption journey. What else could it be? I’ve had some form of the Lost Dream at least once a month for as long as I can remember. I’m lost. I don’t fit in. There is always something missing. This is actually the life theme of an adoptee.

It doesn’t make me sad or angry or anxious when I think about this analysis in my waking life. It is just the way it is. It’s a fact that the emotional challenges we adoptees experience don’t vanish when we become adults, they simply morph. Or they may go into hiding, until the fog is lifted. For me, apparently, these feelings creep into my subconscious and give me these super creative (and scary) Lost Dreams.

I feel like now that I’ve hashed it out with myself and faced it, these Lost Dreams won’t be so scary. I also know I have fellowship in the adoption community where I can share my feelings of not quite fitting in. We can share our feelings of being lost at times. It always helps to share and talk about it. Just writing about it helps.

On a lighter note, I do want to share with you one of my recent Lost Dreams that actually seemed to have a happy ending. Or a weird ending. I’ll let you be the judge. In the dream, I was downtown here in my hometown, but I had lost a very important backpack (apparently it was important, because I couldn’t go home without finding it). As I wandered around by myself looking for it, I ended up an area I wasn’t familiar with. It was getting dark and, as usual, I was starting to panic. I turned the corner and, low and behold, Judge Judy came barreling toward me, driving a tank. She was there to save me! Yes, Judge Judy. In a tank. To save me. Interpret that!

I wonder if any of my adoptee peers experience recurring dreams or dream themes? Let’s talk about it!

This Is Us – It Wasn’t About Jack

I know it’s fiction. I know the characters are not real. But wow, do these writers know how to write emotional stories.

I have friends that say the show is “too depressing,” or just too much of a “tear-jerking melodrama,” so they don’t watch. That’s fine. I have a theory about those people. Perhaps those people are not in touch with their own emotions and watching these stories and the heart wrenching relatable life events may be uncomfortable for them. I might be wrong, but really, This Is Us is soooo good!  To each his own.

I want to focus on Randall’s story, obviously. Seriously, I cannot stop thinking about last night’s episode. Finally, Randall’s story focused on his adoption and the trauma and anxiety in his life that is related to 1) his feelings about being adopted/abandoned, and 2) how his adopters handled certain situations relating to his adoption.

“A Hell Of A Week: Part One” kicked off several weeks ago with three episodes, each focusing on one of the siblings. The episodes also effectively flashed back to the stressful teen years and a flashback to their childhood and their first night in their “big kid beds.”

randallWe know that as an adult, Randall is an over-achiever and a perfectionist. And even in the flashbacks, we see Child and Teenage Randall aiming to be a over-the-top people-pleaser and solver of all of the Pearson Family problems. Randall’s anxiety has always been central to his character. But in these past episodes, we seem to see Randall sort of “flailing in the dark” about where the anxiety comes from and how to deal with it.

Randall’s anxiety even manifests itself in nightmares and once even in a ‘shroom-induced hallucination. In the episode “The Trip,” we see via flashback that Jack, Randall’s a-dad, had no idea that Randall’s biodad, William, was alive and/or interested in his son’s life. After Randall’s interest in random black people becomes evident, Jack talks to Rebecca and suggests hiring a private investigator to find Randall’s birth parents. But Rebecca shuts him down. Her guilt is palpable. She knows who Randall’s bio father is and had even been in contact with him. When Randall finds this out, he is understandably upset. Then, back in real time, Randall is accidentally tripping on ‘shrooms at the cabin, and hallucinates a conversation with his dead a-dad, Jack. “We gave you everything we could,” Dead Jack tells Randall.  “And all I was supposed to feel was grateful,” Randall shoots back. “I was a replacement for your dead baby. That’s all I’ve ever been.”

Later, when the drugs wear off, Randall’s anger had calmed down a bit and he decided to visit Rebecca. I was thinking we were going to see some sort of reconciliation and a real heart-to-heart between Randall and his a-mom. But no. Randall was still pissed about the lie.

“You kept that secret for 36 years. That must’ve been incredibly lonely,” Randall says, standing at the doorway, refusing to come in. Rebecca begins to sob. She reaches for him, but he pulls back. “No, not yet,” he says flatly. “I’ll see you at Christmas.” Then he walks away.

Okay, so the above is just an example of Randall’s issues and anxiety. I can relate to ALL OF IT. Fellow adoptees: can’t you? It’s so obvious!

therapySo, FINALLY, Randall starts to realize, through his therapy, that his abandonment issues are at the heart of his anxiety. Interestingly enough, however, the episode is touted as a “What if Jack Never Died” story. But what really comes though, for me anyway, are the scenarios that Randall plays through his head regarding his bio dad.  Randall realizes, through is therapy, the possibility of rejection, a different kind of reunion, questions about his bio-mother, different emotions about his adoptive parents. . . all so familiar to an adoptee. For me, this was missing in Randall’s story before last night. The flashbacks never showed him wondering about his biological family. His childhood, as far as we knew, was not riddled with fantasies about his bio parents and where they were and whether they were looking for him. Perhaps he didn’t think about it as a child or as a teenager. But he sure as hell let it all out during his therapy as an adult. All the scenarios were there.Jack Randall

I felt satisfied watching this episode. I understood Randall. It felt real.

Unfortunately, there is an entire group of TIU fans who think the episode was really about “what if Jack didn’t die?” And they’re disappointed with the episode. They didn’t “get it.” Uh, no.

It was about all the fantasies and emotions and anxiety and control issues stemming from Randall’s adoption. And we get it, don’t we?

Closure . . . or Peace?

I’ve read quite a few things written by adoptees (and others) where their end goal is some sort of “closure.” Whether adoptees are searching for bio family, or trying to end a toxic relationship with an adoptive family or bio, or trying to figure out how all of the complicated emotional layers inherent in adoption fit into a normal or well-adjusted life, adoptees are looking for closure.

For me, closure is a complex, elusive, and even somewhat scary, monster. And I’m not sure I want it.padlock-690286_1920

I believe life is a journey. Every point of interaction with another human being, and every bit of knowledge I seek, along with all the stumbling and bumbling along the way, come together to form who I am and what I believe. My truth, if you will. The journey, along with the growth and the pain and the learning—the highs and lows–never ends . . . until I end. Which I hope isn’t any time soon.

Closure” or the need for closure is defined from a psychological standpoint as “an individual’s desire for a firm answer to a question and an aversion toward ambiguity. The term “need” here denotes a motivated tendency to seek out information.”
Closure means finality. I don’t think that’s necessarily a good thing. I’ve definitely experienced failures in this life, as well as regrets and terrible disappointments. My life, like everyone else’s, is complicated. But those perceived negatives make me who I am! I’ve accepted my past, but there will never be closure while I’m still living.

open armsI’m open, and I hope I remain open, to new experiences, ideas, friendships and people. People change their minds about things, too. People evolve. The way I felt about something yesterday (or ten years ago) may not be the way I will feel about it tomorrow (or five years from now).

Take, for example, the rejection (at birth and later in life) from my birth mother. It was a crushing disappointment at the time. I was in my early twenties the first time she rejected me as an adult. The second time was in my late twenties after I had my first child. I naively thought the photo I sent of myself sitting on my white picket fence in front of my little starter home holding my newborn baby boy might melt her heart a little. It didn’t. How does one put “closure” on something like that? You don’t.

The rejection and sadness I felt was like an open wound. But it didn’t last forever. I grew and I learned and I healed. I dealt with the pain and eventually, the sadness was lifted. I moved forward. Counseling, friends, and family helped. I also met other bio family members. I met my aunts (my bio mother’s sisters) and spoke to other family members who helped me to understand where my bio mother came from and who she really is today. I’ve decided I’m better off not knowing her. That’s a decision for now. But who knows how I’ll feel five years from now?

path moorFor some, finding closure implies a complete acceptance of what has happened and an honoring of the transition away from what’s finished to something new. I guess in that sense, I agree with closure, in theory. I still like to think of my life as a journey—a windy road with all kinds of pitstops, detours, forks, and even potholes. Hang on, it’s a bumpy ride!

 

3d mock1

Buy Laureen Pittman’s memoir here:

THE LIES THAT BIND

An Adoptee’s Journey Through Rejection, Redirection, DNA, and Discovery

Be Aware: Read an Adoptee Story

It’s National Adoption Awareness Month (#NAAM). Traditionally, this month is promoted by states, communities, public and private organizations, businesses, families, and individuals by celebrating adoption as a positive way to build families. Celebrations include activities and observances across the nation, public awareness and recruitment campaigns, and special events to promote the false narrative of the fairy tale of adoption.

I understand that there are orphans and foster kids out there with complicated or troubled families of origin that need permanent homes. I know that adoption has a place in our society. It’s just that it needs to be taken out of the spotlight as a fairy tale solution for the childless. In addition, by celebrating the fairy tale of adoption and ignoring its complexities, we continue to drive a billion-dollar, for-profit adoption industry. This is an industry that exploits the desires of childless couples or other people that have an “itch” to raise or “save” a child. This is an industry that also exploits pregnant, confused young women.

The unavoidable truth and the crux of adoption complexity is that it necessitates the undoing of one family so that another one can come into being or add to its brood. The singular most important fact about adoption is that it causes trauma, loss, and grief for both the biological mother (and often for others in the original family) and the adoptee. And most importantly, the fairy tale narrative of adoption denies adoptees the acknowledgement and support necessary to process their experiences across a lifetime. Because being adopted is a journey that lasts a lifetime.

I have a friend who adopted a toddler from a Russian orphanage (before the 2013 ban by Russia of the country’s children by U.S. families). He’s now a teenager. She’s a fabulous mom and her son is a smart, socially well-adjusted kid. We were talking and the subject of adoption came up (I was probably updating her on my crazy adoption journey). I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I used the word “adopted” to describe her son. She corrected me. She said, “He was adopted.” She emphasized the past tense and went on to explain that she didn’t use that word to describe her son. He’s simply “her son.” I get that. And I certainly didn’t mean to offend her. But the words “adopted” and “adoptee” aren’t bad words. At least they shouldn’t be. I felt the need to gently explain to my friend that her son is adopted and will always be an adoptee. He certainly doesn’t need to wear it as a badge of honor, but the fact that he is adopted and there is another family out there that he belongs to just as he belongs to her family, needs to be acknowledged. He may have feelings and emotions about it that he wants to talk about. He may have questions about his heritage and ethnicity. She should acknowledge that it is and will always be a part of his identity.

I cannot begin to describe all of the complexities of being adopted. It is a complex journey and different for every adoptee. Depending on the adoptee, it may involve searching for biological family. It may involve reunion. It may not. It may involve sadness, loneliness and depression. I hope not, but statistics do indicate that adoptees far outnumber non-adopted youth in all types of psychiatric treatment facilities. Some adoptees may feel like they have, in fact, lived a fairy tale life with their adopters. That’s great, too, but I hope there is some support out there for every adoptee when and if it is needed.

In the end, we all need to realize that at the center of every adoption is the adoptee. And I’m all about adoptee stories. I want to hear them all. I’ve read many of the adoptee memoirs out there (and still reading!). Take some time to read an adoptee story. Take some time to understand the heart of an adoptee. Celebrate National Adoption Awareness this way.

3d mock1

Toot, Toot!

I’ve never been very good at tooting my own horn. I’ve always shrugged off compliments, whether it be about what I’m wearing, my hair, my cooking, or my writing. At my age (50-something!), you’d think I’d be more comfortable with compliments from others and more confident and about my own successes. I’m learning. And I’m starting to feel the power of my words. It’s cool and empowering.

Book signingMy book is doing pretty well. I’m limping along (there I go again), trying to figure out how to “market” it without the backing and support of an agent and a big (or even small) publishing house. Self-publishing is definitely not for sissies.

I even took the bold step of making a book trailer. That was fun (and intimidating!)  Watch Now! THE LIES THAT BIND Book Trailer.

I also had a local book signing with a great turnout (mostly friends and family–thank you to all who came!). And I’ve been pimping the book as much as I can on social media–I’m pretty sure my friends and family are getting a little tired of hearing about the book.

Targeting the marketing is tricky. Obviously, adoptees and members of the adoption triad are my main audience, but I really believe so many more would embrace, enjoy, and even benefit from the story. Let’s face it: the subject of adoption and the real stories behind who adopts are inherently connected to people dealing with complex and sensitive personal family issues like infertility, surrogacy, illegitimacy, mixed race families, and families with same-sex parents. Adoption, like the family issues mentioned above, often contributes to a distinctive and often challenging form of family. The Lies That Bind is a relevant and inspiring read for individuals dealing with many of the complicated and emotional family issues that we face today.

The feedback I have received so far is telling me that my story is resonating with the world. I’ve got some great 5-star reviews and I’m thankful for that, but even more touching than the reviews have been the personal notes I’ve received from readers.

Just a few weeks ago, I received a new friend request on Facebook from a total stranger living in another state. I accepted her request and then, just minutes later, I received a private message from her. It brought me to tears:

facebook message

Then, just a few days ago, I received a hand-written note from another woman. Again, I’d never met her. She told me that she was raised by her biological parents, but they had also adopted a son before she was born. She explained that, even as a child, she always knew and felt that her brother was “just different” and it was clear that he felt like an outsider, as well, even though he had a stable, loving, adoptive family. This lovely woman told me that after reading my book, she was able to “understand a little more how he must have felt.” She also shared that “he died last year never having any knowledge of his birth family.” He never searched because he thought it would be “disloyal” to his adoptive parents and family. She closed with, “How I wish he could have found the connection you found with Jonathan!” Again, tears.

I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has read the THE LIES THAT BIND. I hope it’s inspiring those who are questioning whether they should find their truth. I also hope it’s spreading enlightenment about the heart and soul of an adoptee.

If you’ve read THE LIES THAT BIND, please review it on Amazon! And if you haven’t yet read it, please do! You can buy it here (paperback or ebook or read for free if you have Kindle Unlimited).

And if you feel so compelled, please spread the word! Thank you. And, TOOT TOOT!

3d mock1

Available at Amazon.

THE LIES THAT BIND: An Adoptee’s Journey Through Rejection, Redirection, DNA & Discovery

The book is finally done. Right now it’s the #1 new release in Non-fiction/Family & Parenting/Adoption!

I can’t wait for you to read it. Launching February 5–e-book and paperback on Amazon.  E-book pre-orders available now for just 99 cents!

The Lies That Bind

A memoir, by Laureen Pittman

Reveal 4